ped. This little man could have been Porteous's double,
except for the black metallic tunic, the glacial gray eyes.

"Mrs. Melinda Adams?" Even the voice was frigid.

"Y-Yes. Why--"

"Major Nord, Galactic Security." The little man bowed. "You were visited
early this morning by one Porteous." He spoke the name with a certain
disgust. "He left a neural distorter here. Correct?"

Melinda's nod was tremulous. Major Nord came quietly into the living
room, shut the door behind him. "My apologies, madam, for the intrusion.
Porteous mistook your world for a Class IV culture, instead of a Class
VII. Here--" He handed her the crumpled dollar bill. "You may check the
serial number. The distorter, please."

* * * * *

Melinda shrunk limply onto the sofa. "I don't understand," she said
painfully. "Was he a thief?"

"He was--careless about his spatial coordinates." Major Nord's teeth
showed in the faintest of smiles. "He has been corrected. Where is it?"

"Now look," said Melinda with some asperity. "That thing's kept Harry
Junior quiet all day. I bought it in good faith, and it's not my
fault--say, have you got a warrant?"

"Madam," said the Major with dignity, "I dislike violating local tabus,
but must I explain the impact of a neural distorter on a backwater
culture? What if your Neanderthal had been given atomic blasters? Where
would you have been today? Swinging through trees, no doubt. What if
your Hitler had force-fields?" He exhaled. "Where is your son?"

In the nursery, Harry Junior was contentedly playing with his blocks.
The prism lay glinting in the corner.

Major Nord picked it up carefully, scrutinized Harry Junior. His voice
was very soft.

"You said he was--playing with it?"

Some vestigial maternal instinct prompted Melinda to shake her head
vigorously. The little man stared hard at Harry Junior, who began
whimpering. Trembling, Melinda scooped up Harry Junior.

"Is _that_ all you have to do--run around frightening women and
children? Take your old distorter and get out. Leave decent people
alone!"

Major Nord frowned. If only he could be sure. He peered stonily at Harry
Junior, murmured, "Definite egomania. It doesn't seem to have affected
him. Strange."

"Do you want me to scream?" Melinda demanded.

Major Nord sighed. He bowed to Melinda, went out, closed the door,
touched a tiny stud on his tunic, and vanished.

"The manners of some people," Melinda said to Ha